Disregard the rules before visiting, this is not a story at all.

There was an unfortunate Midas, a little boy whose touch made eveything filthy. He thought if he collected enough beautiful things he could create a fortress in which to keep his secret. His desire drove him to go about touching things and spreading his filth like a disease.

He was sombre of countenance, and always lingered along the edges of company. As he had his goal of building his fortress, so had these beautiful the goal of spreading beauty, and the air of him drew the most beautiful to his touch. In this way of the Defeated Purpose his pulling and seeking created a colony of sadness spreading to meet its limit.

There are different types of beauty, the transient and the fighting and he did not understand that as dictated by the second Law of Balance only those of the first category would fall to him. Beauty of the second was of a heavier substance, meant to practise a deceit that would see him tricked and consumed.